


Ukulele Boy

by peaxhmei



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Cute, Dan - Freeform, Dan Howell - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Music, Phil - Freeform, Phil Lester - Freeform, danisnotonfire - Freeform, finally something lighthearted, this is so sappy ew ew ew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8563456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaxhmei/pseuds/peaxhmei
Summary: Phil Lester just wants something permanent, but that’s a bit hard when you don’t have a family or a home.  He’ll just have to wait for a soulmate, but those aren’t real… right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yay some fluff :) This is the first fic I ever posted on Tumblr pls and ty. Hope you like it!

Phil was fairly easy to spot; he always wore a bright yellow beanie and his clothes were mismatched.  His ukulele protruded annoyingly out of his backpack, and his big black glasses reflected the light of the sun. 

Phil was the city’s mystery, and no one really wanted to solve it.  Phil knew this.  He knew that people looked down on him, muttering amongst themselves about how “he’s just too lazy to get a real job.”  That wasn’t the case, however.  You can’t judge someone for something they can’t change.  Being homeless doesn’t automatically mean you have a mental disorder or a drug addiction. It doesn’t always mean that you’re just lazy.  Everyone has a backstory.  

Phil didn’t mind the situation he was in, really, as the sketchier area of downtown London had a shelter for the homeless.  Also there were soup kitchens and trash bins, so he was alright.

The only thing he missed was something permanent.  Nothing he had was permanent.  His cheap flip phone could break any day, his ukulele could go out tune; even Phil could get sick and die on the streets.  He didn’t need a home.  He needed somebody; he needed somebody who would stick with him.

 

* * *

 

“Oi Phil!” a voice called.

Phil grinned.  Chris was something else: a scruffy, rude, and sometimes obnoxious boy in his mid-twenties.  He always cheered up the soup kitchen.

“Hey fuckwad.  Wanna drink?"  Chris lazily offered Phil a mug.  “What’s up?”

Phil took the mug and sipped it, being pleasantly surprised as the taste of hot chicken noodle soup warmed his insides.  "Not much.  I earned a few bucks playing ukulele in the middle of the pride parade they were hosting at North Gate Park.  Some kid gave me a twenty and stayed to listen.”

“Power to the people,” Chris chuckled.  “What did the kid look like?”

“It was pretty cool,” Phil thought for a second, mindlessly swirling his soup with a plastic spoon.  “He was actually kinda cute.  He had brown hair, styled like mine, and deep chocolate eyes.  Shit, he was wearing a rainbow tank top and it was sexy.”

Chris nodded, giving him a glance before shrugging and going back to his loaf of moldy bread.  “Sounds like someone has a crush.”

“Shut up, at least I’m not constantly hiding a boner over some Italian kid who’s way out of your league,” Phil giggled.

Phil watched Chris steal a glance at PJ Liguori, a skinny guy with curly brown hair and infatuating emerald green eyes.  Phil had to admit, he was pretty damn adorable.  He and Chris and done some scouting around the offices of the soup kitchen and found his name and number.  Chris even had the number in his phone, but he wasn’t stupid enough to actually call it.

Chris grabbed his backpack and placed it on his crotch, blushing profusely.

“Oh my god,” Phil rolled his eyes.  “Seriously, you’re acting like a horny sixteen year old.”

Chris didn’t answer but kept his eyes on his bread, face still beet red.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Phil chuckled, “I think the pride parade is going on for another week so I might keep going.  I’m getting good money.”

“Whatever suits you,” Christ mumbles, hiding a giggle.

 

* * *

 

“G… C… E… A…” Phil muttered to himself.  He twisted the tuners at the top of his ukulele and plucked the strings one by one, making sure they were nice and in tune.  Humming a quiet song to himself, he gently placed his ukulele in the green grass beside him and opened his case.  Maybe people would be so kind as to place money in there.

The parade was already going at full blast, with Lady Gaga blaring in the background and beautiful rainbows strung up everywhere.  Flags were waved, songs were sung, and Phil could tell people were having a good time. If only he could join… no.  He had to work to make money.  At least the work was pleasant.  Phil had made sure to choose a more quiet area with a few colorful picnics nearby, and he began to sing.

_Fall is here, hear the yell / Back to school, ring the bell / Brand new shoes, walking blues / Climb the fence, books and pens / I can tell that we are going to be friends / Yes I can tell that we are going to be friends…_

Phil smiled to himself; this was one of his favorites.  He continued humming and strumming while a few people started gathering around him, sitting down in the dewy grass to listen.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar face: bright, smiling chocolate eyes, crinkled at the corners, an adorable button nose, and a happy grin. It was the twenty-pound-giver. It’s funny how much some people stand out more than others.  His pierced ears held little rainbow hearts, and instead of a rainbow tank top showing off his lean arms, he was wearing a light pink crop top with the words _Love Wins_ scrawled across the chest.  Phil smiled, but kept singing, enunciating each word.  

_And we don’t notice any time pass / Because we don’t notice anything / And we sit side by side in every class / The teacher thinks that I sound funny / But she likes it when you sing!_

Phil got a bit more into the song, and by the time he was finished, the boy was gone.  People clapped and threw in a few coins, but Phil noticed something: a rolled up twenty pound bill with a bit of white paper sticking out from inside.  A warm, happy blush crept up into his face as he picked it up, grinning from ear to ear.  He unrolled the twenty, and a small strip of paper fluttered into Phil’s hand.

_Hope you come by more often.  You and your voice are cute as hell ;)  Call me: 01632 960534 <3_

Giggling like a schoolgirl, Phil strummed a C chord, and began singing a tune about love.  

“Dedicated to the cute as fuck kid with the crop top,” Phil murmured, and he burst into song.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls go check out the page littlephanwriters, as my gc and I wrote a HUGE collab for Phandom Big Bang! It's a murder mystery oooooo,,,,,, But yeah it would mean a lot to us, as we worked really hard on this. It's also on tumblr at the same url :)


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